


come into my garden (of eden)

by ViviCatLover



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, and he's right to tbh, everyone there can kill him, footza, footza's toes are like a bat's wings but shorter and without webbing, i mean it's justified, mostly he's afraid techno would eat him, technoblade is a wendigo, when you can't write more and it's either post it or never post it, wilbur is a changling, wilbur: narrows his eyes at literally everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViviCatLover/pseuds/ViviCatLover
Summary: Wilbur don't trust like that.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	come into my garden (of eden)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wonderfully_dead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfully_dead/gifts).
  * Inspired by [the gentle beat of a toe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521534) by [wonderfully_dead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfully_dead/pseuds/wonderfully_dead). 



> this is small. and I don't like it very much. but. I am posting it anyways.

At first glance, Wilbur thinks numbly, you’d think they were feet.

The man ( _smells of oldandtiredandnewtoomuchtogiveandtakeaway)_ turned and Wilbur quickly looked away. The man huffed, amused, and kept walking.

And no. Wilbur didn’t mean those feet.

Wilbur’s eyes darted to the man’s.. accoutrements, poised in tip-toe, high on his back.

He means _those_ feet.

If they even are actual feet.

The bottom was too flexible, the toes were too long, and _yet_. He can’t shake the resemblance. 

Wilbur wonders if he was born with them, or if he stole them.

Wilbur shakes his head at himself. Look at him, being a rude asshole. 

So _what_ if his rescuer was weird. He was _alive_ , and probably staying that way.

Unless the man decided he wanted Wilbur’s feet, too, and Wilbur couldn’t stop him.

He could have taken them off of my corpse just as easily, if he’d wanted, Wilbur reasoned with himself. Why would he rescue me and _then_ take my feet? That’s shit resource management.

_I dunno, me, maybe he wants them fresh?_

Who wants fresh feet?!

_A guy with ankles attached to his back, probably._

Okay, Wilbur had to concede that point, _but-_

The man stopped. Wilbur narrowly avoided planting his head face first into the man’s..back? Sole?

“We’re here.” The man announced.

“We’re… here?” Wilbur echoed without thinking, realized his mistake, and hunched in on himself. He tried to lean around the man to see farther up the path but his… (fuck it, Wilbur’s just going to settle on “feet”) made that difficult. 

“My place. Duh.” The man reached out to ruffle Wilbur’s hair, and Wilbur shrank away. The man frowns.

“ _Your_ place.” Wilbur mutters sullenly. 

“Well, it was at first. Things have expanded since then.” The man ( _contritenessreluctance)_ pauses. “Oh. Sorry. I’ve just realized how overwhelming this all probably is-”

As the man turns, Wilbur gets his first clear look at the stranger beyond a green cloak and the feet. His chin is stubbled, with a set of kind, brown eyes set into his face. 

He looks nice.

“My name’s Philza.” 

The newly christened “Philza” extends a hand to shake.

Unfortunately for him, Wilbur doesn’t trust like that. So, he takes full advantage of his otherworldly origins, and mimics the gesture like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it.

“Ah…” Philza seems to wilt in place. “You’ve… never been human-socialized, have you?”

Wilbur tilts his head, considering, and pointedly doesn’t say anything. 

“That’s gonna make things difficult,” Philza taps his chin, toes flexing in thought, and shrugs. “Ah, well, it’s too late, now. Sink or swim, as they say.”

Philza sweeps Wilbur to his side with an arm, waving the other out at the clearing before them, and Wilbur gets his first proper look at the location Philza’s expecting him to stay in.

It’s a valley, snow capped at the edges, like it’s been suspended in eternal summer. The residents are sparse, but each one is stranger than the last. All manner of things and peoples slither, fly, and canter through it, as easily as if they were born there. 

“Philza!” Someone far-off cries, and a porcipine, skeletally lean man rushes up the hill to greet them. Wilbur flinches as the man ( _he smells of winterhungertakingwhatisnotyourstoclaim_ ) claps a hand on Philza’s shoulder. “Good to have you back. Picked up another stray, eh?”

Philza splutters, smacking the man’s hand off. “They’re not _strays,_ Techno.”

He doesn’t deny he picks people up on the road, though, Wilbur internally notes.

Techno waves off the denial and turns to Wilbur. “Welcome to the Antarctic Empire. Yeah, the name’s outdated, but Phil started it up before the snows ever melted this far north, so it stuck. Hope you like it here, we worked real hard on it.”

  
Wilbur just kinda stares, and murmurs softly, “What the _fuck_ ,” as he’s led into a settlement he’d never believed could actually exist on a mortal plane and _not_ get instantly razed to bedrock.

**Author's Note:**

> by the way, phil didn't save wilbur from a bunch of townspeople or anything just a tornado  
> just gripped onto a tree trunk with those feet attached to his back  
> held onto a blank-faced wilbur  
> and then brought him home


End file.
